


Sandvich Make Me Strong

by miumo



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Comfort, Emetophilia, Fluff and Smut, Force Feeding, Gentle Sex, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Sandviches, Stuffing, Trans Male Character, Trans Medic, Vaginal Sex, Vomiting, characters loving eachother??? in MY fic????? its more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:36:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miumo/pseuds/miumo
Summary: Medic bites off more than he can chew.Un-beta’d and it might show.





	Sandvich Make Me Strong

**Author's Note:**

> of course my first fic on ao3 is the NASTIEST thing possible. at least i’m spreading the love too. translations at the end.
> 
> please leave kudos and a comment of you'd like!

A high pitched squeal reverberated through the base painfully, echoing in every room much too loudly. Pyro covered their ears through their mask and whined a soft “hudda”.

“Will doktor come to his room? No company, I have big surprise.” Heavy’s voice came through the intercom speakers in a ear-bursting crackle, and only barely managed to be clear enough one could make out the words. The Medic cocked an eyebrow at the rusty speaker in the wall, and Spy gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Go see your little boyfriend, docteur. We can continue zis conversation another time. I can guess ze Heavy ‘as a big issue for you to ‘andle, hm?” Spy gave a mirthful smirk to the Medic who was left aghast at his tactless joke as he took a cigarette from his case as a way of telling the Medic to take his leave. The indignant doctor stomped out of Spy’s smoking room with an exaggerated _hmph_ like a little kid.

Now that little scene was over and the door was shut behind him, Medic started down the hall to his quarters. Heavy would have gone to the infirmary if he were injured, why was he needed in the bedroom? Heavy better not have been calling him over an intercom for some _special treatment_ in the middle of the day. He probably would just leave in that case, to be honest. He stopped in front of the door with a big red Medic emblem stamped on it.

Taking in a steeling breath, Medic turned the handle and cracked the door open just enough to look in the room. “Heavy? You needed me?”

The door swung open, nearly throwing Medic forward onto the Heavy who seemed somewhat a mix of displeased and excited. “Doktor! Have not seen you except in fight! Where have you been?” The larger man fixed Medic’s glasses, causing the shorter to flinch, and closed the door behind them.

“I have been busy, Misha. You understand.” The doctor gave Heavy a confused but curious look.

“You have not been at dinner. Or breakfast and lunch. For two days, doktor. You look hungry, you must eat. Eating sandvich in fight so you do not die does not count. You look sick eating them, too.” The Medic noticed the twinge of concern in Heavy’s face when they fought, but thought it had more to do with his doctor’s miraculously still-breathing lungs being full of scattergun pellets than his strange eating pattern.

“Vell, Heavy, it is none of your business how little or much I eat. My eating health has never been your concern.” The doctor _hmmph_ ed and crossed his arms. Did he really have time to deal with this? Yeah, actually. Nothing of interest was really going on. Medic let his eyes wander to his personal desk where the microphone stand to the intercom was askew. Everything else was neatly set, couldn’t Heavy catch a clue he liked his stuff in its place?

The Medic started towards his desk to fix the misplaced microphone when Heavy surprisingly beat him there and pulled the simple wooden chair from under it and to the middle of the room with a screech of the rough wood on tile. “Doktor, sit.”

“And vhy,” Medic inquired, “must I?”

“It is your surprise.” Heavy motioned grandly towards the old chair as if it were a throne with a knowing smirk on his face.  
Not without a loud huff and a roll of the eyes, the Medic walked over the chair. “Before you sit, take off coat Doktor,” Heavy ordered, still with his sly grin like he’d heard an inside joke Medic wasn’t a part of. The Medic complied without a word, painfully curious as to Heavy’s intent. After folding the white coat neatly and draping it over the back of the chair Medic seated himself onto it.

With the day’s fighting over and a two day ceasefire having begun, Medic changed into something more comfortable post-battle to wear beneath his uniform coat. He wore a silky feeling work vest and a white dress shirt beneath, as well as comfortable brown trousers and a less battle-worn pair of his black boots.

Heavy was so excited to ruin that outfit.

“You will eat, doktor. I made you special lunch.” Heavy turned away to face the bed. Had he set something there? The Medic didn’t even notice. Despite the strange conditions of it, Medic could go for a late lunch.

“Vell zhen danke schoen, Heavy.” The younger mercenary didn’t reply, heaving up a large platter to show Medic. The platter was stacked high with many sandviches, too many for one person to eat. Medic chose to stay quiet about that, though. He rationalized that Heavy was to feed the whole team, and just wanted to make sure Medic ate first before the man starved to death mid battle. Imagine the respawn time on that.

“You are welcome, doktor. Now eat.” Heavy shoved a specially made sandvich under the doc’s nose and against his lips so he was forced to bite to get it out of his face. These were definitely much tastier than the ones made for battle with an even amount of mayonnaise, and soft bread not crumpled from being in a pocket. That or he was just hungry and his stomach wasn’t in shreds and his tastebuds too preoccupied with blood and dirt like how they typically were in battle. Still, the bite was almost warming. The food was welcomed into his stomach with a growl asking for more.

Luckily, Heavy didn’t want to baby-feed the doctor and let him hold the sandvich himself to finish it off. The sandvich was savored and the Medic sated. He dropped his uptight demeanor long enough to lean back and sigh, patting his stomach that was soft with age before he realized what he was doing and fixed himself sitting upright once more. “Zhat vas delicious Heavy. I vill make it up to you later, but I must go see Spy again.”

But, when the Medic moved to push himself off the seat, Heavy gripped his shoulders and forced him back down, banging his tailbone enough to make it sore. The taller man held Medic in his shadow, commanding him to be still. “Doktor must eat more. Stomach must be empty after so long.” After a few seconds of humbling Medic through their intense staring contest, Heavy broke his gaze to turn and pick up another sandvich. “Another.”

This time, when Heavy held it to Medic’s face, the doctor drew his lips into a thin line, adamantly refusing to bite the food. Heavy glared at him warningly. “Eat another sandvich, doktor. Or I will make you.”

Reasoning with himself, the Medic chose to simply comply. Heavy must have just wanted to be sure he was alright. The larger man did have a way of using force when he was concerned for others. The Medic took the second sandvich with compliance. This pleased the other as they watched Medic eat the second sandvich, albeit slower than the first.

Before he finished the last bite, another sandvich was shoved in his face. The Medic’s stomach gurgled unpleasantly. “No more, Heavy, bitte. I am full.” The Medic smiled in a somewhat pained way, the sandviches already straining his gut.

“Is doktor saying no?” Once again the Medic was buried under Heavy’s towering shadow. Medic must have been solar powered or something, the way being under his dark shadow made all arguments die in his throat. Heavy was, by heart, a gentle giant, truly. But when pushed, the Heavy may be the most awful, most terrible person you’d have the displeasure to meet. Medic didn’t want to be on his bad side, but this stomachache wasn’t worth it.

“Ja, I am. Now let me go-“ The Medic was rudely interrupted by heavy shoving the corner of the sandvich into his mouth far enough to trigger his gag reflex and make him slam Heavy in the leg with his knee. The Heavy recoiled suddenly, looking like he’d just watched a kid trip.

“Does doktor want to stop? Do not want to force me on you.” Heavy kept a respectable distance from the chair where Medic recovered from the sudden assault on his throat by bread and bologna.

So that’s what this was. Medic had been thinking Heavy was just worried, but now it was obvious what Heavy’s intentions were. The doctor contemplated his earlier resolve to just leave Heavy in the dust and to take care of his own problem (which Medic hadn’t looked at quite yet, but felt it now as he adjusted his legs). Though, Heavy hadn’t done anything wrong, this wasn’t their first experiment in dominance, both knew when to fall into whatever role they must yet this time Medic hadn’t seemed to catch the memo.

Who would he be, abandoning Heavy like this when the realization sent minute throbs of excitement to his own loins?

After a moment more of pregnant silence between the two, Medic nodded, opening his legs enough for Heavy to stand between them. Heavy smiled like a child on Smissmas.

Heavy reached for a new sandwich, not going to force the Medic to eat the old one with its corner covered in cold spit. Medic steeled himself, the stomachache fading under the blooms of arousal, for another sandvich. Heavy resumed his dominant act.

“One more chance, doktor. You not eat, I will make you eat.” Heavy held the sandvich up to Medic, who complied with a grin and took the food and began to force down bite after bite. “Does doktor want to take off belt so his stomach hurts less?”

Medic nodded wordlessly, reaching for his black faux leather belt and working it undone with few stumbling movements. As he did, the doctor couldn’t help but think. What did his stomach look like from the inside? Was it distending as much as it felt with three sandviches in its previous emptiness? Was the tight sensation in his gut just a feeling? They would have to try this again, but maybe with a few incisions and a low-set medigun to keep him conscious. A wave of arousal hit the Medic simply at the thought.

The next few sandviches were borderline painful to swallow. Medic’s throat constricted, his body begging him to stop. Still, he was a master of his mind, able to will away silly instincts easily enough. By the sixth sandvich the Medic was practically writhing in his seat, rubbing his thighs together as his gut (hanging just barely over his now undone pants) burned with pain and fought the urge to vomit. Still, the doctor worked on a seventh one, willing himself to reach ten.

Heavy wasn’t much better. The strain of keeping his unrelenting hold on the miraculously submissive doctor had him breaking a sweat as he did everything he could to resist moaning at the feeling of his straining cock now freed of his pants but still trapped by his skull-and-crossbones printed boxers. Watching the Medic come undone so easily was forcing him to do everything he could not to follow suit. On his knees between the older’s legs, Heavy caressed Medic’s protesting stomach in one hand and lightly held his other hand around the doctor’s throat, feeling every swallowed bite.

By the time he’d finished the ninth sandvich, Heavy was tugging Medic’s pants down, taking his light red boxers with them. Medic gasped, staring glassy-eyed at Heavy past his stretched-out middle. “May I, doktor?” Heavy asked Medic, looking up at him with lustful eyes. Medic understood what he was asking, and nodded with no reluctance whatsoever.

Heavy wasted no time latching to Medic’s clit, suckling strongly and stopping only to run his tongue up the doc’s labia minora and occasionally flick the anterior of his tongue into the other. If Medic was barely in one piece before, he was in bits now. Clutching at the back and seat of the chair, Heavy’s head, the bedposts, the once-composed physician was in a state of euphoria past language. There were no words, English, German, or even Russian, that could convey just how the Medic was feeling. Not even having a spare part of his brain to think of the situation, Medic was buried in the most unexpected all-consuming pleasure of being eaten out by Heavy.

The Medic felt like a teenager with how he squawked and sobbed at something so simple. Still, there was no way the doc could even consider being ashamed when he was this close, so close, just a little more-

The tenth sandvich, he completely forgot. Reaching over with a trembling hand, the doctor scrambled for his last sandvich, accidentally crushing it was the force that he grabbed it. Not that he cared. Decorum be damned, hell, choking be damned. Wanting it over with, Medic held the sandvich to his mouth and ate the whole thing in two bites. The moment the second agonizing bite hit the Medic’s tortured gut, he was blindsided by his almost-forgotten oncoming orgasm.

There was no afterglow to bask in. Instead, Medic tensed, hunching forward and retching. The heaves alarmed Heavy who backed away and held his doctor’s shoulder consolingly. There wasn’t much room for words, though, as Medic teetered on the edge of vomiting right onto his lap.

Still, despite the awful-sounding dry heaves and popping vertebrae from hunching over so suddenly, nothing came. Only a small shot of stinging bile filled Medic’s closed mouth, which he promptly swallowed back down without a thought. Heavy rubbed his back gently, almost massaging the Medic.

“Can doktor go again soon?” Medic was barely aware of Heavy’s erection this whole time, and now its presence hit him like a fist of guilt that almost triggered another fit of heaving how Medic’s gut clenched ashamedly. He’d neglected his lover, and wanted to make it up to him.

The Medic nodded fervently, his face still red and hair matted with sweat still. Before Heavy could offer to help the doctor pushed himself off the chair with no small amount of effort and fell forward onto the bed. A bad decision as the force of his drop jostled the contents of his stomach and made his body tense again. When the moment passed, he rolled onto his back and slowly worked off his clothes, not bothering to save them as he just threw them off somewhere on the floor (except his socks, he never took those off to Heavy’s amusement).

When the exhausted Medic looked up, Heavy was working off his boxers, trying not the fall as he balanced on one leg to do so. The moment Heavy was entirely nude himself, the Medic opened his arms as an invitation for the larger man to get on top of him. Heavy took the offer with no hesitation, mindful not to press his own gut against Medic’s own. He kissed the doctor with a sort of reverence and excitement. _Thank you for doing this, Doktor. I will make this good for you._

Heavy backed away from the exuberant snogging of theirs to reach for Medic’s nightstand to retrieve the well-used personal tin of K-Y jelly the doctor kept and a condom when Medic clutched his arm and put Heavy’s hand to his face and nuzzle against it. “I…You can…Bitte…” Heavy felt Medic’s teeth and tongue graze his sweaty palm and almost melted. He’d truly ruined this man with just a few sandviches.

Heavy reluctantly took his hand from Medic who whined pitifully (something he would deny doing later) and lowered it, teasing a finger around the slit before slowly sinking his index finger into the Medic. Aided by both the already present slickness and his spit, the finger was easily welcomed. Heavy circled his thumb around the older man’s clit slowly as he began to work open the Medic around his one finger. With his other hand, he still reached to retrieve a condom and opened it skillfully with one hand.

The doctor whined again when Heavy slowly slipped in his middle finger to the first knuckle alongside his index. Heavy knew to be careful and slow about this despite his own leaking cock throbbing uncomfortably, as this wasn’t so much a regular occurrence. Heavy wouldn’t be able to live with hurting his doktor like that. The Medic groaned his approval, wrapping his legs around Heavy’s middle. “Don’t…Don’t expect zis often, Heavy...” The Medic chuckled to himself before cringing in pain at a pang in his stomach brought on by it. Heavy waited out the moment before continuing.

Soon enough, Heavy could comfortably fit three fingers inside of Medic and continued for a moment only to watch Medic’s hazy expression for a moment before he ordered Heavy to get on with it. Heavy slowly removed his fingers with a pleased groan from himself and rubbed the bit of remaining wetness on them onto his cock, just for extra insurance, before he leaned back over the Medic. Somewhere in their distracted pleasure Heavy had carefully worked on the condom and Medic looked over his distended stomach and slowly nodded approvingly at Heavy’s foresight before just dropping his head back on the pillow with a soft _poff._

Heavy slowly moved his hips forward, missing the first time and surprisingly didn’t get a comment from Medic on it. The second thrust hit home and Heavy slowly pressed into Medic inch by inch, stopping often to let the doctor calm his somewhat pained panting. Heavy wasn’t quite able to sheath himself entirely in the other, but it was good enough, and Heavy dragged his hips back and forth agonizingly slowly.

All the while Medic clutched at anything he could, his legs locked around the other. Medic wasn’t quite the loudest lover, but certainly an active one. When he got his hands on one thing, he’d only be still for a second before going to ground himself with something else. He couldn’t ignore the constant ache from his stomach anymore and moaned out in pain, making Heavy cease his movements so fast Medic hadn’t even been able to realize he did for a second.

“No, no, Heavy..Bitte…Bitte hör nicht auf…Es schmerzt so schön…” Heavy barely understood the Medic’s pleas, but the breathlessness of it and how his voice rose in pitch sent whatever blood wasn’t there already rushing to his cock. Heavy held the sides of Medic’s chest carefully, running his thumbs over decades old scars and an old bird tattoo Heavy always found so interesting as he slammed himself into Medic.

Needless to say the action was well received, and Heavy didn’t stop, giving slow but deep thrusts to Medic’s pleasure. One large hand ran down the older’s chest, stomach, and down to where they were joined, caressing his clit again with a sort of love and care to contrast the force behind Heavy’s thrusts. Medic simply writhed against Heavy now, moaning in pain and pleasure as Heavy chased his own orgasm while bringing the ravaged doctor to his.

Heavy was reaching his end embarrassingly quickly, but it seemed Medic was nearing his climax as well. Heavy considered the possibility of them finishing together and a moment and his orgasm jumped much closer than he’d wanted it to be.

With an unexpectedly hard thrust, a surprised gasp from Medic, and a scratch down his sides as the doc’s nails caught him, Heavy pushed in as far as he could against Medic’s cervix and came into the condom. All through this he still rubbed his knuckles against the hard button of Medic’s clit.

Heavy came down from his orgasm, staying seated inside Medic for a moment longer before slowly pulling out, mindful to make sure the condom stayed on. When Heavy had pulled out entirely, he took off the condom and tied the end in a knot to toss into the wastebin beside Medic’s nightstand.

In his afterglow, Heavy heard Medic’s frustrated groan. Looking back up he saw Medic ramming two fingers into himself in a fevered attempt to cum. Heavy quickly too, his place with a hushed apology and Medic accidentally kicked Heavy in the stomach as he reached his own earth-shattering orgasm.

Just like last time, Medic had no time to enjoy the post-orgasmic pleasure as his stomach attempted to force its contents up his throat. But this time, he wasn’t prepared to stop it. Just barely quick enough, Medic threw himself onto his hands and knees and vomited onto the bedsheets, wheezing and heaving as he did. Heavy was so shocked he couldn’t even react quickly enough. The moment Medic thought he was finished, another round of stinging bile came up, leaving an absolutely foul taste in his mouth as the doctor’s stomach voided of everything it could.

He couldn’t help it, it was a normal bodily reaction considering the amount of stress on his now emptied gut, but Medic felt consumed by shame as Heavy looked at him with a mix of concern and shock. A pained sob wracked his body as he began to tremble, bile still dripping from his open lips.

Heavy slowly put an arm under Medic’s chest, holding him up against the larger man’s chest while his stomach was lovingly caressed. “Doktor, are you okay? I didn’t mean for you to be sick.” Heavy rested his chin on the Medic’s shoulder, who had started to cry a bit. Either from the pain or humiliation, nobody knew. Heavy broke the embrace only long enough to retrieve a towel he’d borrowed from the communal showers to clean up the remaining vomit on Medic’s chin that was dripping somewhat onto his chest.

The Medic wasn’t one to cry, even in his worst moments he could keep himself composed. And yet, somehow, this had brought him all the way to almost full on wails he was sure the others could hear should they be nearby. This was it, Heavy must have been disgusted, he couldn’t even meet the other’s eyes. Instead, the doctor closed his eyes and let Heavy use a clean corner of the towel to wipe away his steadily flowing tears.

“Doktor, please don’t be upset, it is okay. I will take you to my room and clean up here, okay?” Heavy tried to comfort the Medic whose sobs began to die into a silence broken by his crying gasps. Heavy found his sudden quiet even more alarming than the tears.

“Dass... Das wäre schön... Bitte...” Heavy closed his eyes and planted a gentle kiss on Medic’s cheek before getting off the bed. Heavy took a second borrowed towel to drape over Medic to cover him as Heavy pulled his own boxers and pants before picking up the exhausted Medic bridal style and carrying him to the door.

Heavy peeked out the door, being sure nobody was around before tiptoeing out and closing the door silently behind him and carrying the Medic (who had apparently fallen asleep) to his own quarters so he could sleep while Heavy cleaned up their mess.

When both were inside the Heavy’s quarters, the sound of decloaking echoed in the hall. Spy leaned against Medic’s door and lit a cigarette. “Those two will never cease to amaze me,” the Frenchman mumbled amusedly to himself.

……….

Medic attended dinner that night to everyone’s surprise, though he kindly refused any offers of food. He didn’t seem to mind Soldier’s lecture on food making energy and energy making kills, as if he wasn’t aware of that himself. Heavy sat close to Medic, who would lean against his arm through most of the dinner. Spy sat across from the couple, giving the Heavy a knowing smirk when he looked. Heavy was smart enough to know what that meant and resolved to break Spy’s neck after showering.

**Author's Note:**

> Danke schoen - Thank you very much  
> Bitte - Please  
> Bitte…Bitte hör nicht auf…Es schmerzt so schön… - Please...Please do not stop...It hurts so nice...  
> Dass... Das wäre schön... Bitte... - That... That would be nice... Please...  
> if i got anything wrong, please let me know! i’m not exactly fluent in german quite yet lol.
> 
> also spy you lil shit.


End file.
